Review #1,462: 'Bringing Up Baby' (1938)

Considering Howard Hawks' Bringing Up Baby is now regarded as one of the finest screwball comedies of all time, it's shocking to learn that it was hailed as a flop upon its release in 1938, and received a few unfairly scathing reviews. Romantic comedies are as popular now as they ever have been, and watching Bringing Up Baby 71 years after it was made almost feels as though it could have been released last week, only in black and white and starring two of the finest actors of their, or any other, generation. Its formula and structure is now a blueprint for any filmmakers hoping to make a successful rom-com, featuring all the ingredients now so closely associated with the genre, like the meet-cute, the obstacle standing in the way of happiness, and the quirk that sets the love interest apart from everybody else. The quirk here is a pet leopard named Baby, who - despite how ridiculous it all sounds - is the glue that holds the film together.

For the past four years, goofy palaeontologist David Huxley (Cary Grant) has been searching for the final fossilised piece to finish the Brontosaurus display he has been assembling for the museum. Much to his joy, the 'intercostal clavicle' has been located and will arrive within days, but David doesn't have time to celebrate. On top of his impending marriage to the sullen Alice Swallow (Virginia Walker), there's also the matter of impressing the wealthy Elizabeth Random (May Robson) and her lawyer Alexander Peabody (George Irving), who are considering making a million-dollar donation to the museum. David's plans are interrupted when, on the day before his wedding, he meets motor-mouthed Susan Vance (Katharine Hepburn) on a golf course when she accidentally plays his ball. From then on, Susan causes David to slip on an olive, tear his dinner jacket, and generally make his life a living hell. She takes a real shine to the mild-mannered and dashing scientist, and proceeds to manipulate him into whisking her and her brother's pet leopard off to a remote farm, where she steals his clothes and accidentally unleashes another leopard into the surrounding area.

It's a ridiculous premise that would look disastrous on paper, but the combined talents of Hawks, Hepburn, Grant and writers Dudley Nichols and Hagar Wilde not only make it work, but turn it into one of funniest films of its era. Similar to Hawks' 1940 masterpiece His Girl Friday, the script moves a mile a minute, cramming in more one-liners and shrewd observations than your brain can keep up with. Of course, the script only works when the actors can bring the words to life, and there has perhaps been no finer pairing in the screwball genre than Hepburn and Grant. Grant, with his vaudeville background, is always brilliant when playing these sorts of characters, but Hepburn, who had little experience doing comedy in 1938, struts into the role with confidence and ends up walking away with the film. Watching them work their magic helped me understand why modern neo-screwball comedies don't work. The actors are simply of a different breed, hailing from a time when live shows were the ruling visual medium and learning the craft was entirely different. Hilarious and romantic in equal measures, Bringing Up Baby helped write the genre rule-book, lending real weight to the idea that they just don't make 'em like that anymore.


Directed by: Howard Hawks
Starring: Katharine Hepburn, Cary Grant, Charles Ruggles, Walter Catlett, Barry Fitzgerald, May Robson, George Irving
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,411: 'Ramrod' (1947)

Feuding landowners have always been a popular subject matter for the old-school B-movie westerns, and on face value Andre De Toth's Ramrod appears to be cut from very familiar material. The presence of co-stars Joel McCrea and Veronica Lake no doubt attracted punters charmed six years earlier by their performances in Preston Sturges' masterpiece Sullivan's Travels, and they would be forgiven if they thought they were in for some light-hearted white hat vs. black hat cowboy fun, with a little bit of romance sprinkled in for good measure. In fact, Ramrod couldn't be further away from Sturges' romp in terms of tone, with De Toth revelling in the cynicism of all but one of its central characters. Based on a story by legendary Western author Luke Short, this is a tough, twisty horse opera that pushes its characters into morally murky territory, sharing more in common with the film noir genre than the tropes of a western.

As the film opens, we are already at the boiling point of a conflict between powerful ranch owner Frank Ivey (Preston Foster) and sheepherder Walt Shipley (Ian MacDonald). Walt wants to bring sheep to the land, a big problem in cattle country. Caught in the middle of the feud is Connie Dickason (Lake), the beautiful and headstrong daughter of rancher Ben (Charles Ruggles). Her father wants Connie to marry Ivey, but she detests his bullying, violent manner and prefers to marry Walt instead. As it turns out, Walt doesn't have the stomach for a fight and flees town, leaving his Circle 66 ranch to Connie. Rather than caving to Ivey's demands for the land, Connie hires the stoic Dave Nash (McCrea) as her 'ramrod', or foreman, who feels indebted to Walt for taking him in when he was at his lowest. Dave accepts, but only on the promise that he is allowed to deal with Ivey peacefully, and without resorting to violence. He hires the free-spirited Bill Schell (Don DeFore) as back-up, but as Ivey and his gang employ increasingly brutal methods and Connie loses patience with Dave's restraint, alliances are forged and broken as the conflict spirals out of control.

Despite the magic they made together working with Sturges, I've never been particularly fond of either McCrea or Lake as actors. They have the screen presence, certainly, but they can both come across as empty shells. They are undoubtedly the weakest aspect of Ramrod, a film that is otherwise riveting from start to finish. The story is complicated enough to hold your interest for the duration, with supporting characters emerging to play a more important role that you were expecting, and revealing hidden layers that provide plenty of twists and turns. Indeed, Ramrod would be pretty pedestrian if Dave's methods proved to be the only way, and as his grip on the situation loosens when the back-stabbing and dirty dealings start to play out, the film heads into pure film noir territory. As the bodies start to pile up and the gun-fire becomes more frequent, De Toth forces his characters down some incredibly dark paths and doesn't wimp out of the difficult corners he backs them into. This is tough and exciting stuff, made all the more interesting by the way De Toth toys with the myth of black against white. The weakness of the leads is countered by some excellent supporting players, in particular Foster and DeFore.


Directed by: André De Toth
Starring: Joel McCrea, Veronica Lake, Don DeFore, Donald Crisp, Preston Foster, Arleen Whelan, Charles Ruggles, Lloyd Bridges
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #473: 'Trouble in Paradise' (1932)

Trouble in Paradise is a film that could not have been produced only four years after its 1932 release. Under the soon-to-be Hays Production Code, this narrative of con-artists flagrantly breaks levels of decency, sexual innuendo and criminality that the code was set up to eradicate. Lily (Miriam Hopkins) and Gaston Monescu (Herbert Marshall) join forces in Venice to become a couple of grifters, they live together in sin and have no scruples when stealing is concerned. They move to Paris where they target the famous perfume manufacturer Madame Mariette Colet (Kay Francis), finding confidence with the heiress, Gaston becomes her secretary, and play the long game in consuming as much of her wealth as possible.

With romantic entanglements becoming increasingly apparent, Colet practically offers Gaston a position as a gigolo. This menage-e-trois - love triangle - complicates the situation, as relationships become heated. It's a masterwork of comedy, with Hopkins being the most delightful and versatile of the cast. Her plucky attitude, and effervescent presence gives the film a fantastic tone - in one scene she sits at the bedside of Colet, and anxiously holds her hands under her legs so as to stop herself from stealing the jewels on the bedside table.

Based on Hungarian playwright Aladar Laszlo's stage work, 'The Honest Finder', this was the first of Ernst Lubitsch's films given the mantle of having "The Lubitsch Touch", this is a perfect example of creative film making. His camera glides through scenes, and from window to window in some scenes (perhaps nothing to a modern audience, but an incredible achievement in 1930's cinematic production). This is possibly the finest film in the pre-code era, and a complete joy in all respects. As it was produced before Will Hays's iron fist came crashing down on Hollywood production, the film doesn't insult its audience with a moral conclusion, as the thieves happily disappear into the sunset, laughing at the "ill-gotten" stash. Beautiful, anti-moralistic comedy at it finest.


Directed by: Ernst Lubitsch
Starring: Miriam Hopkins, Kay Francis, Herbert Marshall, Charles Ruggles
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Marc Ivamy